The First Great Adventure of my Life.

Pt. 1
You'd be surprised how flexible your ribs can be when a 230 lb man of toned muscle is ramming them with his shoulder. Needless to say when it happened to me and I was in the midst of stumbling backwards I started wondering exactly what I'd gotten my self into. Unfortunately while I was shuffling my feet, instead of thinking about his higher motivations in life, he was thinking only of placing a well positioned leg under my feet, and when I had finally reached the conclusion that this had in fact been a mistake I also reached the concrete with little more than the expected thud.

The crowed of 40 or 50 students surrounding us gave out a gasp and shudder. But I got up, I'd been committed so I stepped back up to my opponent and our wrists again came in contact. And in a few more moments I was back on the ground, this time thinking there was probably something about this guy none of the other students had bothered to tell me about. Again I rose to my feet, and again I was returned not to gingerly to the hard ground.

I had been hanging out with the Tai Chi club that was meeting every day next to the Confucius statue. I went there to watch them. But because I hadn't payed the club dues I felt that I shouldn't be practicing with them. They had all been doing tai chi for no more than one or two years so when they heard I had been studying for 5 years they had been very impressed. But for anyone who is wondering, while I do have a black belt at 5 years, really in the tai chi community 5 years is still a beginner. Despite my protests every so often they would insist that I do some tai chi for them to watch.

After a few days I started asking about their teacher. They said he had recently moved away but would come once a week. So I waited eagerly to see how advanced he would be.

This day, which I refer to as “why even bother getting up day”, this was the day their teacher was coming. When I arrived I sat and watched them for a good hour and a half, and I could tell that their master was definitely very good, and knew what he was doing. When the group of students started practicing on their own some came over to me and introduced me to their master, after which they insisted I do a form for them. I obliged, actually a bit nervous with the master watching me, but when I was done he gave me plenty of compliments and I felt pretty good about my self, though sometimes I wonder if they lower the bar because I'm an American.

After that some of the students asked if I would do some push hands. I had a group of 4 or 5 people around me. I would take one of them on while the others watched. For those who don't know push hands is a way of practicing the meditation and martial arts applications of tai chi with out all the arm breaking and killing involved with the actual moves in tai chi. Two people face each other and they touch each other wrist to wrist. They keep in contact in order to feel where their opponent is and to manipulate their energy so that they can win. In the US we always did it so that when your opponent is forced to take a step you win. I've pushed with a few people in China where there isn't really any winning, and your feet aren't anchored. Your free to walk around your opponent all you want.

As of yet none of the students have ever beaten me, with them though I play the step and your out rule. Eventually I was getting hungry so I was getting ready to go, when a few of the students I'd been pushing with called me over to the larger group. None of them could speak much English but they told me as best they could that this man, now standing in front of me, wanted to push with me. Now we are taught in tai chi that size doesn't matter, muscle and strength doesn't matter, and it's something I've come to learn, in class I have tossed a 200 lb man with little effort simply by using the correct techniques So his size didn't scare me, assuming we was at most a 2 year student like the rest of them I should have no problem with him, and in fact if he tries to use all his muscle against me it would give me all the more energy to use against him.

But as our wrists came in contacted something seemed different than I when I was pushing with the other students, perhaps I could feel the strength of his chi, or maybe something in the way he moved qued me in to his skill, but I think it was probably the fact that suddenly every single one of the students had stopped what they were doing and had surrounded us in a huge circle like something out of a bad Kung Fu movie. I only had a moment to wonder why everyone was so interested before I landed with all my body weight on my left shoulder.

Since I started doing tai chi I have gotten very used to not falling, I have much better balance than I ever had before I started learning and even such things as navigating a slimy rock bed next to a creek while fishing has become easier, sure I stumble plenty and on the afore mentioned rocks I still slip a lot, but the actual incidents of falling completely to the ground have become almost none existent. But this day I started getting used to landing hard on my back or sides. Each time I hit the students and growing crowd of passers by that were stopping to watch would let out a groan on my behalf.

After a while though I started getting used to his style, not saying he was in any danger quite yet, but he definitely had to work a little harder each time he added another bruise to the collection. I'm gonna go into a play by play for the next part because it's cool

“So Rick, it looks like Ian is becoming less and less enthusiastic every time he gets up, is he getting tiered or has he just reserved himself to defeat at this point”

“Well you have to understand he completely underestimated his opponent in this match Steve, he went in completely blind. We can obviously see he is breathing very heavily but I think he may also be taking a moment to gage what he previously thought of as a sure thing.”

“Hmm, interesting. OK well Ian's back up and here we go. Well Rick it seems we don't have this large fellow's name any where, lets just call him...The Doughnut”

“The Doughnut Rick?”

“I skipped breakfast this morning-But no time to change it now their wrists are in contact and there off. Ian appears to be trying only to avoid The Doughnut's feet, which have been tripping him up all day, but The Doughnut is crafty, he's using his weight to try and further tier Ian down.”

“Oh my Rick did you see that, Ian just barely escaped the...uh....Doughnut's arm cruncher there, if he hadn't bent his elbow right then Ian may have spent the next few months in a full arm cast. Ian is rebounding now, trying to keep his center of gravity below that of (sigh) The Doughnut's. It seems now that Ian is actually trying to go on the offensive.”
“Yes Steve, it seems Ian has taken in all he plans to from his opponent at this point and thinks he knows enough to-OH, my it looks like Ian landed hard with his weight crushing his left leg, his knee is gonna be sore tomorrow”

“But he's back up and ready for more punishment, Rick, holding his hands up to signal he's ready. OK back, again Ian is just avoiding the feet of his opponent, and he just barely avoided another close encounter of the earthen kind, he he, now Ian is...oh my whats this, it looks like Ian's got The Doughnut on the Ropes, Ian is pulling The Doughnut's left arm down now, and he's following with the raise of the right arm, and whats this...yes The Doughnut is falling but so is Ian, all he needs to do is stay standing and YES HE'S DONE IT HE'S WON”

At this point the crowd Erupted in applause, and I stood pretty tall for a moment. When the guy stood up I held out my hand to say thats enough you won a bunch I won once lets call it even. But he didn't seem interested in that, we went a few more rounds that I think were just so he could make it absolutely clear that he could wipe the floor with me any time he wanted.

That little bit of info that I felt I was missing I learned from one of the students afterwards, apparently this guy had come with their teacher today to give a guest lesson, he had apparently been studying for 10+ years and was a professional martial artist.

Pt. 2

Well that was Saturday, Sunday i got a call from my master and Monday I was on my way to see the school he had arranged for me to start learning wushu and tai chi at. In one heck of an accomplishment, I managed to arrange the time and figure out the address of the school over the phone with the school all with out a spot of English.

I got in a cab after class on Monday and handed over the address, after a lot of back and forth mostly the cabby saying something and me saying louder each time “I don't understand” he eventually got me where I was going.

The gate had a big Yin Yang on it. Next to the gate was a security guard station, and beyond that was the biggest martial arts school I've ever seen. There were many buildings I could see that were nothing but dorms, I later learned that all the students at the school, except for me probably, lived there at the school.

I met the person that had been arranged to meet me, Zhong Shifu. He didn't speak English but was able to explain a few things about the school in Chinese And I told him that I would probably be coming twice a week for now, just because I was very out of shape and it would be a little while till I could get back to my usual regiment. We agreed on Monday and Thursday at 1 for now as we walked towards where I would be learning.

In the US my school is small, When we were learning weapons we were always avoiding the lights, and each other as we crowded in to the work out space, on Saturdays the tai chi class would get down right crowded after 50 or so students showed up. So when I climbed the 3 flights up to the practice area and opened the door, I acquired a pretty stupid grin, just one more thing that my beard seems to effectively hide. This room was the size of a college basket ball stadium and had nothing but mats and carpets for practicing wushu. The ceiling was a full 2 stories above me nothing I could ever hope to hit with my sword even if I threw it.

Zhong Shifu asked if I was planing on learning the rope dart to which I replied an emphatic “Dui”, he pulled the weapon from a case on the side of the room and stepped to the center of the nearest square of carpet. A rope dart is a long, maybe 12 foot rope, with a heavy medal weight on the end. You swing it around obviously, but the spectacle comes when, while swinging, the rope wraps around your arms, legs and body in various different ways then with a flick of your wrist or a straitening of your arm all the energy is released at once shooting the weight like a bullet in a strait line, and considering the heft of the weight I can imagine it just decimating someones skull, but to be fair the practicality of using it in a fight is just absurd, it's just for fun and to look cool.

He didn't teach me anything that day, it was just a demonstration day apparently. But when I came back on Thursday he gave me a rope dart and started teaching me, that day and the next Monday I started learning a ton, a lot of stuff I'd never even seen before. But while my reacher was wearing long sleeves I was not so smart, as the rope is always wrapping around your elbow, and since I was practicing for an hour and a half, I beat up my elbow pretty good, and the next morning my elbow had turned completely purple, pretty impressive for someone who doesn't bruise to easily. When I go back on Thursday I plan on being a bit better prepared in the apparel department.

In other news, October 17th was my 20th birthday, which actually means very little. In the US I've been waiting to turn 21 for a long time, I'm really not all to interested in drinking, but pretty much every rock show that comes to town is a 21 and over show. You are so limited, in a lot of other ways too. When your friends go for lunch they have to adjust their plans for you because the place they were thinking of is a bar. But here there is no drinking age in China, so I'm free to go anywhere already. I've been to a Chinese club, just reinforcing the hypothesis that I really don't belong in a club, especially a club that plays nothing but Chinese pop music, and where you keep getting shot in the eye with lasers. Give me the woods and a nice stream any day, which I have been missing quite a bit.

And yesterday the sky was blue, that may not seem like huge news but consider the fact that, on some days when the pollution isn't so bad, so that you can see the planes flying over head, people on the street stop and gawk at the white trails left behind. So a day where it's actually blue is amazing. I think I've seen 2 or 3 blue skied days since I've been here, and it's already been nearly 2 months.

Well generally the last week or two has lacked excitement, just class and the lot until the last three or four days when everything happened like crazy, like I still don't really believe it happened. But let me get through a few things first that add to the story especially when I play it from the angle of me becoming a Chinese pop star.

So last week we had a party, a big celebration in the courtyard of the international students dorm, with tons of food, tons of people and a stage with skits, music, and demonstrations from various students representing there countries. It was a pretty exciting night for me and the other Americans because that was the night that 25 new students from a community college in California arrived at our school. They would be here for a month, teaching English to the Chinese students here who were pretty advanced in English already. They had already been to Korea, another city in China, and will move on to Vietnam when they are done here.

I was hanging out with new friends and eating the same old Chinese food, (which I am getting used to these days). And up on stage climbed a man with a bald head who was dressed in monks robes. He had a large monks spade, a weapon of the shaolin monastery, and proceeded to swing it around rather skillfully. This of course drew me close as I tried to get my camera at a good angle, but he finished before I could click the shutter.

When he put the staff away, he came back with two bowls. He then asked for volunteers from the audience, I jumped up as soon as my friend translated. He placed the bowl on his stomach so that it acted as a suction cup around his large belly. (when internal martial artists get very good they get large bellies as a result of many years of deep breathing that has expanded their diaphragm). He then told us to line up and all wrap our arms around the people in font of us, and when we did, he told the first person in line to grab onto the lip at the bottom of the bowl. He wrapped his fingers around the metal bowl we all started pulling, and with all our strength we couldn't pull off the bowl, in fact the bowl broke first.
[IMG]http://i78.photobucket.com/albums/j109/kungfu_sage/china/Iwantthatbowl.jpg[/IMG]

Then he pulled out another bowl, which proved more substantial, and we each took our turns at the front of the line, until I went to the front and was the only person able to break the bowl. As a reward I got the dish, which I still have now sitting on my desk.
[IMG]http://i78.photobucket.com/albums/j109/kungfu_sage/china/meandmybowlcopy.jpg[/IMG]

That was all good and fun but it mostly faded into just one more event in China. But a few days later my teacher handed me the Jinan paper, and turned a few pages, ending on the page that had a picture of me with the other guys on stage pulling on the bowl. I thought that was pretty cool, thinking how long I'd been in Portland with out my picture being in the paper. So in addition to the bowl I now have this, the first entry into the “Ian Turner Scrap Book of Chinese Fame”.
[IMG]http://i78.photobucket.com/albums/j109/kungfu_sage/china/china041.jpg[/IMG]

As it just so happened that was also the day that, as a result of my lowest score on the most recent dictation, I would be singing a song in front of the class, with a friend who's score equaled mine. A few days earlier I had bought a guitar with the money my sister gave me for my birthday, going away, Christmas gift. So we sang “Hurt” the Johnny Cash version, interesting duet with me forgetting some words and my friends thick Irish accent. At the end, my teacher, a pop music fan, clapped loudly and said “oh, very good, you now are pop stars yes”. Which I admit put the whole idea of being a Chinese star in my head.
[IMG]http://i78.photobucket.com/albums/j109/kungfu_sage/china/china034.jpg[/IMG]

A couple of days later I was coming back from the store, when I saw Ryan and Carrie, standing out side of the dorms with a woman, when they saw me they pointed me out to the woman who laughed, rubbing her hands over her mouth obviously surprised by my facial hair. When I walked up the stairs to them they filled me in on a cool opportunity, they needed some Americans to take pictures of, and some one said something about a billboard. So me needing money, still having troubles with the bank, and very interested in having my picture on a billboard in China, I agreed with Ryan to participate. It was said to be 600 kuai for a half days work.

Three days later at 6 in the morning I found my self skipping class to go to some apartment on the edge of town where I got my hair and makeup done. Very sadly I did not get a picture of my self, but I'll try and describe it. The hair was combed straight back, but blow dried like crazy so it was big and puffy, and covered in a tough shell of hair spray, and my make up made me look, well, dirty. I looked very dark, but not like I had a good tan, more like I was a homeless man just off the street. I wasn't to pleased when we left the apartment and walked around in public, though no more people stared at us than usual.

We got in a van with a crew of people none of whom spoke English so me and Ryan spoke freely about the strange presence of a video camera mixed with the tripods, and a lack of a still frame camera. We really knew nothing about what we were doing so we were a bit unprepared when the crowded van didn't pull into the final stop for 2 and a half hours. At which point we were taken to a room and Ryan was given a suit to change into. While my hair and make up made me appear to be some bum off the streets, Ryan looked like a local news anchor, a big difference from the D'nD type nerd he usually portrays. He wore a full business suit right down to the shoes, while I just hung out in my regular clothes for a while, thinking about how totally bazaar it was that I was gonna be a model in China. Eventually some one came and got us and we went to a room with a video camera set up on tracks, in a room set up like an office, and people working on computers.

This confirmed what we had feared earlier. We were not going to be on a billboard, we were shooting a commercial. This idea took us a little while to get used to, but Ryan was quickly taken to sit at a desk with 3 other people dressed as Chinese business men, I don't think there was much to Ryan's role other than “The American.” A good many takes of them shaking hands later, we were back in our room. This time though when they came back they handed me a jacket, a blue jacket that was the same as all the employees' there with the company logo stitched on it. My job was to sit in on a board meeting while the boss gave an inspirational speech to his staff, as it turns out though I was sitting in on an actual board meeting and when the cameras stopped rolling I wasn't sure if I should leave or if that would be rude, I definitely didn't want to just sit there with all the people taking notes, just looking like some dumb hobo. But the meeting ended quickly and slipped out the door with the crowd.

Again much waiting found a lady leading us out back to the the factory where they apparently assembled the cabinets and safes that they sold. Again the cameras were set up and again I found I was up to bat, still in my blue sports jacket. In this role I was to play of all things an American, but an American teaching the factory worker, the actual factory worker, how to do his job, every so often the pang of the utterly surreal would strike me as I remembered what I was doing just a few days earlier, never expecting to do anything like this.

After a few takes I was finished and they called Ryan up to film the final gripping scene, American business man walks through factory flanked by a posse of Chinese business men, surveying the factory workers and being very impressed. And at that point it was finally over. But we couldn't leave before taking pictures with a bunch of the workers, then meeting the president of the company, shaking his hand, taking a picture with him, all while dieing of hunger, thirst and forming a head ache out of the fumes from my hair.

And 3 hours later when our van finally made it into school, we were both fiercely aware of the fact that it was 9:00 pm, and it was just as dark now as when we had left this morning. It had certainly not been a few pictures and it was not a half days work, so when he were dropped off and payed we took issue with the fact that we felt we deserved more than the 600 we were given, it proved useless, I still have no skill in arguing with a Chinese person.

I don't know if or when the commercial is to be shown, but should I catch it I'll try and get a picture. In the mean time I'm practicing my guitar 4 or 5 hours a day, not really out of discipline but really only because it's the best form of procrastination I've found yet. And when I finally hit it big here in China I'll be able to play some really wicked Chinese pop music.

Ok finally just a few up dates, new job opportunity, after class today my teacher told me her friend had a daughter that was looking for a tutor to help her learn English, I don't know how much she would pay me, my teacher asked me how much I would charge and I told her I have no idea, and asked her if she knew what was normal, she said she also didn't know but a stead cash flow would be nice. The really fantastic thing about being an American in China is people just offer you jobs. Now I just need to watch my spelling when I teach.

Second I was talking with some of the Germans, and they told me that they were paying about half of what I was paying for my dorm by living in a flat out side of the school, and not only does it sound wonderful to get away from my Korean neighbors, it also would get me away from the large population of English speakers, forcing me to use my Chinese more, but I think that would be an idea for the next term.

And finally for now, I spent the evening with a Chinese friend I've made here, we had a four hour conversation about all sorts of things. I explained to here the history of American music from slavery to modern rock and roll, we talked about diversity and racism, she is a journalism major so we talked a long time about what Free Press is and that lead to discussing whether she thought she really was free in China. I found that, like with a lot of Chinese I've met, she was either just totally oblivious to the suppression in China, or she was in denial. She didn't believe me when I said that my Internet is censored so I can't get onto BBC, CNN, Wikipedia, or a number of other web sites. When I ask if she felt safe publishing something if it was anti government she just asked why she would want to write something anti government.

But she is not so entrench as most Chinese I've met and eventually I think she really did start to think about some things she hadn't before. But the most shocking thing I heard was when I was trying to explain that most Americans view the Chinese people as suppressed, and I was trying to explain the term suppressed to her, and so I said “It's like the people in North Korea, but thats an extreme example,” and she had no idea what I was talking about, she seemed to know nothing about what was going on in north Korea, the fact that they are so censored and all that, or the terrible conditions they live under. But it was a rather awesome conversation none the less, even though she sometimes felt uncomfortable with the topic she always listened and was willing to try to understand my point of view. And she actually did a pretty good job of understanding me, even when I started getting into taoist concepts when related to marriage, which lead to the theory behind taiji, topics most English speaking people I try to explain to fail to grasp, or fall asleep in the middle of. So I was impressed with that.

Ok thats China in a nut shell, theres no way I could fit everything in here, but I got the best stuff in at least, I think.

and as usual you can see pics of my adventures at photobucket.com under the profile Kungfu_sage.

When I received my student visa from China, I also received a piece of paper that was stapled into my passport. It told me that with in 30 days of my arrival into China I had to get my self a residency permit otherwise I would be staying in China illegally. And as it is my way I waited 28 days before doing anything about it, but do something I did. Three days ago I got up early and took to the streets to hail my self a taxi. I handed the driver an address hand written by a man working in the office. The driver nodded his head, which turned out to be a total lie, and we took off.

The cabby tried his best to make small talk with me, and I actually did understand a bit of what he was saying, but soon the difficulty of conversation muted the cab for the duration of the trip until he told me that he didn't know where I was trying to go and could only get me some where in the general vicinity. So he dropped me off and left me to find the police station on my own.

I had been there once before. A week and a half prior I had gone with a group of students and a representative from our school, but there were so many people there that day that they ran out of time, and I didn't get my chance at the desk. So the man from our school told us to come back on our own. So I knew at least what the building looked like, and the area I was in did look familiar, but i had no idea how to get from point A to point B.

I asked a few locals for directions, and not being able to understand there words I acted solely on there emphatic pointing. Now in China the only thing that out numbers police stations are government owned banks, so when I found my self in front of the wrong big blue sign I was not surprised. I walk in anyways, intending on asking directions to the other station. I handed the man at the desk the piece of paper telling me about the residency permit, thinking that might get the message across, but of course it didn't and I ended up spending 20 minutes tying to explain that I was lost and trying to get some where else. The whole time more and more people were constantly being called over to see if they could make sense of my mishmashed Chinese, and soon 10 people where all listening intently, breaking in with phrases I didn't understand to try and help me out. Every once in a while I would reach into my back pack to pull out various props, the hand written address, my passport, the piece of paper from my passport, my dictionary.

But eventually, after my point was finally understood there was a sudden response of “lets go!” proposed in English by one of the male officers in the crowd, as if they had been wanting to take some sort of action for the whole time and were jumping at the chance now.

They led me to the street and put me in the back of a squad car, which I think was unnecessary, though cool, since we only ended up driving 2 blocks and turning left. But never the less I thanked the officers warmly and shook their hands before walking into the large building.

There were few people in today so I very soon heard my number called and found my self sitting across the table from the man that would grant me my permit. As I reached into my pack to get the papers I needed, the officer leaned back in his chair so his blue uniform wrinkled and hung loosely from his shoulders, then took a long drag from his cigarette. I took out my passport and placed it in front of him. He did not pick it up immediately, but waited a second, not long just one second, maybe two, just long enough to look over the small blue booklet as he slowly exhaled, watching the wisps of smoke in his peripheral vision. Unlike most Chinese I've met, he showed his age. He looked like a man that was not defeated by life, but tiered by it. I imagined what he had done as a police officer, I wondered what his life had been like. I thought of the rouge police officer, that had been forced to sit behind a desk as punishment for not playing by the rules, but had the sole secret to taking down the Chinese mafia, if only the pain in the ass boss man would listen to him.

Calmly he leaned forward resting his elbows on the desk and took the passport. He looked it over silently, as he had remained since I first saw him. He typed my information into the computer and stamped three pieces of paper with bright red ink, then pushed one of the paged towards me. He looked me in the eye, pointed at a line and said “sign here,” in English. I signed my name and he took the paper back. And asked for 400 kuai. I handed him the money and he gave me a receipt. He pointed to a date on one of the papers and said, “come back here” the date was for the 30th. “so 3 days?” I asked. He leaned back in his chair again. “is today the 28th” he asked smoothly. “oh yeah sorry, so two days” he nodded his head and I left the station.

Theres something about a person with a story, even if you can't tell what that story is. They move differently, act differently, even if they don't want to tell their story, it shows in they way they eat their food or walk down the street.

Recently 25 new Americans arrived at our school, which is 5 times the number that here here already. When I was meeting a few of them and I told them that I had come here on my own expecting to be the only American, and possibly the only English speaker. One of them asked me what could have possibly possessed me to come to China alone. I simply told him I was a masochist. And even though I was kidding it rang with more truth than I let on. I want to have a story to tell, I want one of the most amazing stories people have ever heard, and stories worth telling don't happen in your living room, in front of the TV. They don't happen at the computer writing spread sheets or in the same old places that you've always been. They come when your in a dark ally, when you don't have money for rent, when you break an arm, or loose a loved one. Stories start with something hard, something difficult to over come, and the best stories end when you survive, and not only survive but destroy the challenge, when you struggle for so long and work so hard that you almost can't make it over the final hill, but in the end you do make it, and you not only make it but you stand up, and you look down on all the things that tried to hold you back, that now are just little artifacts down in that dark valley. Then you see the next mountain even bigger and darker, and your only thought is, “I wonder what this hill top would look like from up there.”

Again I found my self making good friends with my bathroom this week, I'm not sure what the culprit was this week but I have a feeling it was a package of Chinese beef jerky I ate the night before the days of solitude. 3 days I lied in bed with my lap top, luckily I'd just bought a new copy of “war craft 3” that more than sufficiently occupied my time for the duration. And in fact it seems to be occupying a great deal of time in the present as well. But for those of you who think I'm just wasting my time, I'll mention that everything is written in Chinese, I don't know whats going on half the time, but every once in a while I learn something new, like the Chinese characters for manna potion, or night elf, that must come in handy sooner or later.

Otherwise it's been mostly just classes, I took a test to get put in a higher level class, worried I wouldn't learn all I could in the class I'm in now. My teachers said I had scored well enough on the test to advance but it would be really hard for me. So I decided that I would rather stay in the class I'm in now. I've been learning quite a bit, especially since I need to do all the make up for the days I was sick.

Last week me and my friends returned to the little shop where the little old lady gave me the painting of the little bird in the grass. The second we walked in she started pointing at me and talking really fast in Chinese, not that I could understand her anyway. But what my friends were able to gather, she had given me the wrong painting, I think she only sold copies of her work, and that I had taken the original, and she wanted it back. Despite this she was still very kind and said she would replace it with another painting when I came back. We were scheduled to come back next week anyway because my one Australian friend, Wei, had bought a painting of a goddess, that needed to be put on a scroll that wouldn't be ready 'till then.

After that we walked around to some of the other shops filled with Chinese antiques and art, and as it turns out there was a whole other half to the market that we hadn't even seen yet. It's becoming one of my favorite places in china so far. As we left though, a man came up to us speaking broken English, “hello hello” he shouted as he ran from the other end of the hall. “hello” we said back politely. When he reached us and started talking to us he pointed to one of the shops we were standing by and said “this place has all real things, all the other places here are not good” we kept the smiles plastered on our faces and tried to escape the clutches of his verbal kungfu grip.

Another week of classes passed and again it was Saturday, and time for my friend to pick up her painting, but before we went strait to her shop we stopped by the underground market place, a tremendous little place filled with nothing but row after row of little booths and shoppes selling clothes, food and some things that don't really fit into any preconceived categories, such as a hamster playing a traditional Chinese stringed instrument.

I took a few pictures of scary looking mannequins as the girls regularly stopped at each hand bag shop to buy their 6th or 7th of the trip. But I did find one thing I'd been wanting for a while now. A mattress for my mattress. The mattress in my room now is currently as hard as a solid block of wood, and not only that but you can feel each individual spring digging into your back as you lay there, trying to sleep. So I bought this mattress, a thin pad to put over the top of my bed. I talked it down from 80 to 60 kuai and sleeping has gotten much better ever since, though I'm still in the market for some industrial strength ear plugs.

After reaching the end of the mile long spelunking expedition we came out into the light and pulled out our map to find the old lady again. We got our bearings and set off. On the way we passed a little restaurant called “millionaires” and their symbol was a blatant knock off of the McDonnalds arches, I thought it was worth taking a picture of. I clicked off my camera and my friends took out their's to do the same. But just as Wei was redying her trigger finger a man came out, very very angry and started yelling at us in Chinese I'd heard that taking pictures of counterfeit stuff is likely to get you in trouble, but I had no idea the same applied to a huge restaurant on a busy street. After he went back inside, a few more pictures were taken and we walked away.

We got to the building and walked up to the 5th floor where the old woman was waiting for us. She already had a big smile when she heard us coming before she had even looked up to see us. We talked a little while and she told my friend that she could have any one of the paintings done of the goddess she had wanted, and she would throw in a painting of tigers for free if we wanted to wait around. So we waited a round, for a very long time. We sat outside the shop in the hall while Wei was inside talking with the woman.

In the shop are a number of awards hanging around mixed with the hundreds of paintings that paper the walls and floors, and sit in piles in the corners. She is also very nice and willing to take time to help us understand her, even though she has a thick accent and we don't speak very good Chinese at all. She really has taken a liking to Wei, she is the only Asian in our group, and even though her parents are Taiwanese she doesn't speak very good mandarin either, though when ever we're out everyone assumes she is our translator. As she was sitting with the old lady in her shop she was offered the chance to learn how to paint for free. A chance I would have jumped on right away, but Wei, seemed uninterested.

As this was going on though that man from last week who spoke English walked by and again started talking with us very enthusiastically. He was wearing a track suit and a watch that he made us guess the price of, which was apparently 16,000 kuai. He really liked to talk about himself, and after a while started asking what we were doing here. We told him we were buying some paintings and showed him what were were getting, upon looking at the paintings he immediately told us we were being riped off and that this lady was a bad artist. He then took my friend Ryan off to look at some subosedly very nice porcelain, but Ryan returned reporting some rather unpleasant lower back hand placement by the man, so though he sat with us and talked with us a while, mostly insulting the other artists we were talking with right in front of them because they couldn't speak English, we generally tried to avoid any in depth conversation. He had no problem telling me that he thought a religious studies major was a bad idea.

When we finally had our paintings he followed us out, giving Ryan his number and promising him a painting if he wanted to get together some time. We turned down invitations to show us more art and got out of there quickly.

We hopped a cab home and unloaded our goods in our rooms, then went out to dinner. We went to a nice Taiwanese restaurant. Then we went to another market place some other people had been to before. I ended up buying a really nice Chinese suit coat. I like to wear it around my room and just feel generally pimpin. The other thing I bought is generally the coolest thing ever. A belt with a huge buckle in the shape of the Transformers symbol, and when I wear the two things together I feel like the coolest nerd on the planet.

Well thats it for now, I'll have more to write next time in a week or so.

I have a Chinese stalker. Or more like I have a whole school of Chinese stalkers. On any given day you have a good chance of being approached by a total stranger who, in 2 minutes, will ask you any number of personal questions, always tailed by a request for your phone number and a plan to help them study English. Lately I have taken to lying and saying I don't have a phone, but they are quite persistent and don't have a problem with asking you what your room number is. On my first morning here before learning the tricks of the trade I was approached by such a young man, my age, and he is now alway calling me and dropping by unexpected. I believe I have put an end to it for now by scheduling a weekly meeting time to work on his English, I'm hoping this will get him off my back for the rest of the time I'm around here. He's not such a bad guy but he just has a way of saying things like “I sit out in front of your dorm in the morning and never see you come out to go to class” with a little laugh at the end that is just a little creepy in my book.

In the same vein of comfort though, some things that are starting to get on my nerves are as follows. The pollution, which is so bad that for the most part I can never actually see the sky except right after a rain storm. Most of the time one can easily look directly into the sun without squinting and just see a red disc hovering over you in the sky, and at night when it's the worst, the air stings your eyes.

This leads to the next thing on the list, the smell. For the most part I've gotten used to the smell, but on days when I leave my air conditioner on all day then leave my room I get a renewed introduction to the olfactory offerings of China. But most of the smells come right here from the dorm building. Now I've been in dorms before and realize that they smell, as college students tend to smell. But it's much worse here for the main reason that there is no authority on campus, no rules anything like those rules that I would expect in an American college, generally people smoke anywhere they want, though those who don't like the smell of smoke in there things, usually hang out in the halls filling them with clouds. And usually at a certain time of night the smell will change from tobacco smoke to more illicit substances, and on weekends literally you can go stand out side the building and still smell the pot smoke that has permeated all 5 floors of the building.

This again leads to the next problem I'm having, my neighbors, specifically my Korean neighbors. As my Irish classmate said, and as any Korean who understands European culture will tell you, the Koreans are the Irish of Asia. They get tremendously drunk every day of the week, and stay up late yelling and running up and down the halls. Cement floors do nothing to mute the sounds, so most nights I have a lot of problems with sleep quality, and find my self wishing the worst hang overs imaginable on them every morning when I awake more sleep deprived than the day before.

Nearing the top of the list, showers. I don't have hot water. Like I don't mean that the water is room temperature, it's cold, it's really really cold, And it's bad enough now when the weather is relatively warm, but in a month or two it's expected to get well below freezing at times, I was told the weather is similar to Wisconsin, and I do not relish the idea of a cold shower on a day that would warrant a winter storm warning back home. In addition to the temperature of the water I also am held to a schedule as to when I can shower. If I don't shower with in a specific time either in the morning or the evening then there's no water at all. Just empty pipes and empty dreams of a less smelly lifestyle.

Next I come to the people that I've met, the other English speakers here. In fact there not that bad, there pleasant to hang out with and everything, but there not the kind of people I would chose to spend time with if they weren't literally the only people I have to relate with. The girls are the biggest problem, they are very much the epitome of ditsy American girls, they party all the time and we can't walk by a hand bag store with out them stopping to gawk. No one really likes the same music as me or shares my ideas. Even though they speak my language I still feel like I'm with a totally different culture than my own.

The food is actually quite good and the only thing that sucks is that I really miss American food, I miss ribs, or hamburgers, I miss butter and cheese, cookies that are actually sweet, and donuts made with more than a teaspoon of sugar, and root beer, I have yet to find anything other than sprite, cola, or this gross mint soda. And I so miss a knife and fork, the simple pleasure of not making each meal an exercise in muscle control and coordination.

Finally I just miss Oregon. I miss Portland, the best city in the world, the rivers the streams, the fact that the wilderness is just minutes away, rather than hours. Fishing, hiking fresh air, and people who understand what I'm saying to them. I miss my friends, I miss camp, where I could spend everyday in the woods and wouldn't have to see a city for the whole summer if I didn't want to. Where I slept on the the ground once or twice a week rather than on a mattress as hard as a concrete slab every night.

But of course this is why I came, I came to subject my self to a challenge that was harder than any challenge I'd endured before. In high school after doing out door school for the first time it made me feel stronger than I'd ever been before, it made me capable of handling situations I'd avoided before hand. After learning the lessons you can only learn by being in charge of 12 unruly 6th graders for a week 22 hours a day. The most important thing I learned is that the only way we can really grow and learn is by being placed in situations where we are uncomfortable, where we are afraid and where we make tons of mistakes. Ever since then I've been doing hard things and putting my self in situations where there was no way out, where quitting was simply not an option, and I think I have grown considerably as a result of it. And this was my biggest one yet, I can't just go home, I have to see this through to the end no matter how hard it gets, and when I come home, I will be stronger and smarter and more able than ever before. Thats why I did this, not just to learn Chinese but to push my self to the next level, take some maturity steroids and take another step towards that person I want to become.

When I was working at camp if I had a good group of kids I would alway talk to them about. “the person they want to be” as opposed to the person they are right now, and I would tell them that every thing they do every day would either lead them closer or farther from that person, and then I would ask if the things they are doing were contributing to that person they wanted to be or not. And since I gave that talk regularly to each new group of kids I had, and it often became a topic of conversation through the week, it was something I often asked my self, and here I think I can really say I am making my self who I want to be, I'm not just being directed by the strongest forces in my environment, but am actually my own propeller. And that so far has been my most comforting thing.

Well anyway that was my therapy for now, already I feel better about it here. I promise I'll have an actual report soon.